


Cold Wind, Another Season

by J (j_writes)



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they met there, it was an accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Wind, Another Season

**Author's Note:**

> written for PicFor1000 2007, for [this](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v233/picfor1000/challenge%205/wood/wd29.jpg) picture.

The first time they met there, it was an accident.

It was a tiny hotel, family-run, the kind that had what the brochures called "charm" and what most people called a lack of class. But it had comfortable beds, and amazing food, and the nicest staff imaginable. It was also someplace that wasn't the city, which was really all that mattered to either of them.

They both just wanted to disappear for a week, so Dan asked Dana for a recommendation of a nice little quiet place to go, and Casey made a reservation at somewhere he'd been years ago, and they packed their things.

They said goodbye after the show and walked into the hotel lobby within three minutes of each other.

Casey almost wasn't surprised. After all, he and Dana had come here together.  
______________

The second time, it was less of an accident.

"We've got the weekend off," Dan said, looking up from his computer.

"Yeah," Casey agreed.

"Doing anything?"

"I think I'm going to get out of the city," he said, and that was the end of the conversation. But it was code, and Dan knew it, so three days later they met in the lobby of the little hotel, and only paid for one room.  
______________

The third time was after Jeremy and Natalie's wedding, because they just happened to be in the area.

That was what they told themselves, anyway.  
______________

The fourth time the staff greeted them like old friends, and in the morning their waiter had coffee waiting for them at their table by the time they sat down.

"I could get used to this," Casey said as he cut into his omelet, and Dan grinned.

"I think you already have," he said.  
______________

The fifth time they barely made it into the room before they were on each other, Casey's hands finding their way up under Dan's shirt as he locked the door behind them. They kissed against the wall, hard and clinging and frantic, and when they made it to the bed it was nothing like the slow passionate sex they'd had on previous nights here. This time it was fucking, pure and simple, and it hurt Dan to see the desperation in Casey's eyes.

They sprawled across the bed afterwards, sweaty and exhausted, with Dan's head on Casey's chest and Casey's arm flung across his shoulders.

"What are we going to do?" Casey asked, sounding old and tired.

There were offers, for both of them. In LA, in Boston, in every state in the country. Everyone wanted Dan Rydell and Casey McCall. But no one wanted them together, not anymore.

It was easier to forget your anchor was gay if the guy he was sleeping with wasn't sitting right across the desk from him.

"I don't know," he said, listening to Casey's heart beat against his skin. "I really don't know."  
______________

The sixth time was supposed to be the last.

It had been a long few months of negotiations and interviews, too much press and not enough work, and they were both worn out. They spent the hours watching movies, talking over coffee in the dining room, sitting on the porch in painted wooden chairs and watching the world go by.

They escaped, just for a little while.

At night they slept curled up with their arms around each other, and neither knew that the other was hardly sleeping at all. Instead, the time was spent memorizing every inch of skin, every strand of hair, every quiet sleep noise.

Sleeping was a waste of time together, a waste of time they no longer had.

The last morning, as they were leaving with their suitcases, Casey took Dan's hand on the porch. "You're taking the offer," he said, and it wasn't a question.

"It's not that far away," Dan replied, as if he thought that was any consolation.

They hugged, tightly and for a long time.

And then they left.  
______________

The seventh time Dan came to the hotel, he was alone.

It was Christmas, and he had nowhere else to be.

He was the only guest, and the owners tried to make him feel at home. But he no longer knew what home was.

Most of the time, he stayed in his room, their room, staring out the window at the snow falling, and wondering how long it would be before this stopped hurting.

He came to the conclusion that it probably never would.  
______________

The eighth time, they were older, though not necessarily wiser.

Casey was at the desk when Dan walked in, and he stood by the door and watched him. The years had worn lines into his face, and Dan wanted to touch each one, smooth it away. His smile was still the same, though, when he turned and saw Dan standing there, and it made Dan feel like maybe everything didn't have to change.

Dan could feel tears stinging his eyes as Casey crossed the room and wrapped him up in his arms. He waited until they dried before he pulled back, giving himself time to feel Casey's cheek warm against his neck, his arms tight around him.

"So," he finally said, and Casey nodded, looking halfway between elated and terrified. "How's retirement?"

"It's…good," Casey replied, then made a face. "Wow. Could that sound any lamer? It's...I didn't think I'd like it, you know? I thought I'd be bored out of my mind. But I'm not. Not really. I get to see Charlie more, anyway. He says hi, by the way."

"You told him we were…"

"Yeah."

Dan nodded. There was nothing to say to that.

"So. How's _your_ retirement?" Casey asked, and Dan grinned.

"Three days old."

Casey chuckled. "Fair enough."

That night, they held each other in the creaky old bed that had gotten creakier and older in the years since they'd been here, but otherwise hadn't changed at all. Dan mentioned that to Casey, and Casey laughed, long and hard.

"Could say the same about us," he said.


End file.
